Breathe Me
by SimplyAverage13
Summary: Based on the song Breathe Me by Sia - A Faberry one shot.


**A/N – so this is my first foray into fan fiction so please be kind – feedback is welcomed.  
I saw a prompt for a Faberry fic based on/around the song "Breathe Me" by Sia and since I love both the song and Faberry I figured I'd give it a shot.  
Enjoy – SA13  
**

* * *

_*****  
Help, I have done it again  
__I have been here many times before  
__Hurt myself again today  
__And the worst part is there's no-one else to blame  
__*****_

You blame your eyes.

When you look back you realise it was there all along. It was as if soft focus had been used throughout your entire time with her, obscuring everything so that you couldn't see it clearly. Lines were blurred just enough...there was just enough distortion that you missed it. You deserve the slight pain you feel when you flick back and focus, sharpening the moments captured between you. The sting following the burning realisation it was there all along. She loves you; it shone so brightly, like a flash in the dark.  
You played the blind fool so well that you lost your sight. Now that it is back the truth now lies doubly exposed over those instances, forever marking them. It was all so obvious. Not for the first time you have a revelation about the impact she has on your life. She shaped you, sculpted the person you've become. You've tried hating her and it didn't work, the end result was you hating yourself. Doing that again isn't an option. Those lines won't disappear because you will them.

*****  
_Be my friend  
Hold me, wrap me up  
Unfold me  
I am small  
I'm needy  
_*****

You blame your arms.

They became so acquainted with grasping tight around her lithe frame, toned from years of rigorous dancing but retaining that fragile softness that she tries to hide. With a fierce glare and verbose cut downs.  
Now it feels so markedly off when you hug someone who isn't her, so you don't.  
You recall a book you read during your extensive prep for a course you were taking. When asked you recited to her your favourite line "The loner who looks fabulous is one of the most vulnerable loners of all", explaining without prompt (because she never has to ask for further detail – you freely give her the insight into your thoughts that you know she desires) that you feel this line so soundly it almost hurts, you were always so lonely. All people saw was the pretty girl. No one looked deeper. No one but her told you how much more than that pretty face you were.  
For a moment appears stunned. Then she simply remarked that you had her, you always did. She hugged you. Your arms locked tight around her waist finding hope and warmth in their purchase of her body. She opened you up in that instant, undoing years of damage inflicted by an oppressive father and troubled life. The pretty girl suddenly felt like a distant memory as her arms give you the strength to let go of that resentment. You are so much more than that. Her arms are so much more than a means to touch you. They set you free in their embrace.

_*****  
Warm me up  
And breathe me  
*****_

You blame your lungs.

Her name rattles off your lips and escapes into the world. You literally breathe her.  
Inhale. Rachel. Exhale. Rachel. Inhale.  
She fills you up so crisply, providing your body with the basic element it needs to live. She is that element. Somewhere along your journey together you stopped breathing for yourself and began to breathe for her. When she leaves for New York late Sunday evening it gets a little harder to exist, your chest tightens. At first it was nothing more than a glancing twinge – something you dismissed as a remnant of your car accident and nothing more.  
During her third visit your twinge becomes sharper, more acute, more tangible.  
By the time you visit her just before thanksgiving your twinge has become a tight and constricting constant. Stepping off that platform into Grand Central you look to the bench that has become your go to waiting spot and stride towards her. The hands that were squeezing your lungs release as you shout her name in response to her singing yours. Inhale. Rachel. Exhale. Rachel.

It's as if she cocooned you in a gentle hold, waiting for you to emerge. She trusted that you would fly. Her belief in you is so strong and steadfast that it could carry you to the moon and back. Unwavering and unquestioning she breathed life into your soul when it all seemed so hopeless. The self inflicted agony and the wounds from your past all healed under her care, her soft hands caressing warmth back into your body. Stripping the dark blame from your skin and replacing it with an entirely new shade of emotion.

You once read that when you're gasping for air it's not your lungs that are crying out for oxygen, it's your brain. Your brain needs her. Your lungs need her. Your arms and your eyes need her. Your body knew before your heart but now every single fibre of you resonates with a single truth. It begs for her to breathe you again, you're addicted to her, always needing more.

You look at her.  
"Rachel..."  
Pull her into your body.  
"Yes Quinn?"  
Arms wrapping.  
"I love you too."  
Exhale.


End file.
